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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405835">Harley Quinn (And the Return of Her Fantabulous Gal Pals)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujinoLover/pseuds/FujinoLover'>FujinoLover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harley and Ivy [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), Gotham City Sirens (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:49:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujinoLover/pseuds/FujinoLover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joker is not the first villain Harley fell in love with.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Harley and Ivy [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>223</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Harley Quinn (And the Return of Her Fantabulous Gal Pals)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Harley.”</em>
</p><p>Helena sounds strained, like she’s constipated. More so than usual, but Harley shrugs it off. Renee supposed to give the kids the talk, about the bee and the canary. Maybe she forgets. Harley doesn’t know how she can live with that amount of sexual tension between Helena and Dinah. It choked her and she’s only been in their place like twice. It’s probably the whiskey that saves Renee.</p><p>“Yea?” Harley drawls. She and the kid just came back from a little gig. The annoying squirt’s been pestering her about trying a more hands-on approach with the lessons. They are on number 52. Her back is killing her. “What’s up birdie?”</p><p>Helena is quiet long enough for Harley to fidget on her seat. <em>“Your ex is here,”</em> she says.</p><p>That has Harley jumped back to her feet with a loud <em>fuck!</em>, banging her shins on the low coffee table. The leftover cereal milk sloshes out of a bowl and a Wonder Woman mug tumbles and crashes on the floor. Cass hollers <em>Harley!</em> from the bathroom like a displeased parent.</p><p>Harley glares down the hall. She’s the adult here. “Shuddup kid!” Plopping back down on the couch and rubbing her shins, she hisses into the phone, “What the fuck did he want?” Her eyes widen almost comically, bruised legs forgotten. “Fuck, did he hurt you? <em>Fuck!</em> I’m gonna—”</p><p>
  <em>“Er... It’s a she?”</em>
</p><p>It’s posed like a question. Harley notices belatedly that Helena’s not just constipated like whenever Dinah takes off her suit jacket or flexes those guns. She is constipated like she’s on the edge of an orgasm and there is only one person, ex or not, in this world that can turn the stoic Huntress into mush (other than Dinah, obviously).</p><p><em>“Yeah…”</em> Harley bets Helena is nodding with a dopey grin on. <em>“She’s so hot and smells like flowers and very green.”</em></p><p>Harley refrains from muttering another <em>fuck</em>, because that’d be excessive, but fuck indeed. She ignores the way her heart lurching wildly under her ribs. She’s resistant, she has to remind herself. It doesn’t work through phone call, right?</p><p>“Give her the phone.”</p><p>There is a small shuffle while the phone is being handed over. Helena’s voice is dreamy. Useless baby gay is useless and Harley can’t even blame her, she was one too. There is another muffled yell, probably Dinah, under a gag order by the vines, so she won’t be able to use her killer voice. Another unsettling noise of smooching among Renee’s slurred words. Harley never pegs her for having foot fetish. <em>Eew</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Hello, Harleen.”</em>
</p><p>Dammit. It works through phone call. It gotta be, that’s the only way Harley can explain the sudden flood of arousal coursing through her veins. She’s fucked. Hopefully soon.</p><p>Harley doesn’t even bother to hide the pathetic grin on her face. Her voice is high-pitched, foreign even for her own ears, like she’s back being a PhD student crushing on the hot plant science assistant professor. “Hi Pammy.”</p><p>
  <em>“Call me Ivy, please.”</em>
</p><p><em>Not</em> doctor Isley <em>like when we played?</em> Harley bites back the snarky remark. Pamela Isley likes to remind people of her accomplishment. Harley might or might not take that from her, but hey, she worked hard—double hard to earn her MD <em>and</em> PhD. She’s entitled to brag, especially when people don’t see her beyond her blonde hair.</p><p>
  <em>“How are you doing, Daffodil?”</em>
</p><p>Without a thought, Harley undoes her pigtails. Her hair reaches past her shoulders now. She sighs as she runs her fingers from the scalp down to the dyed tips and leans into the touch, like she always did when Pamela played with her hair. She never forgets all the times she crashed on Pamela’s place, frantic and sobbing because she was overwhelmed by everything. Harleen cited it on being stressed, that she was crazy for doing the MD-PhD program that was taking seven years of her life. But, like, why get one when she can have both? She is never choosy anyway.</p><p>Pamela had spoken to her in the same even voice, soothing but strong, as she lay on her laps and had her hair stroked. <em>You need professional help, Peanut.</em> Damn right she did, but she’d refused because she was barely scrapping it together, she couldn’t afford therapy on top of her student loan. Pamela would have helped her if she’d come clean, but she didn’t. It’s all her own fault. Pamela is always so nice to her.</p><p>“‘m fine.”</p><p>
  <em>“Keeping out of trouble, I believe?”</em>
</p><p>There is mirth in Ivy’s tone, like she knows what Harley has been up to. It’s kinda hard to miss the news about Roman Sionis in pieces on the pier. Considering that she has the Birds of Prey hostage, she probably knows more than she lets on.</p><p>Harley makes a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat. She’s moved to play with the rip on her shorts. She knows she’s fidgeting and she can’t do anything about it. Cass gives her an odd look as she walks past, eyeing the spilled milk and broken mug. She seems concerned when Harley doesn’t bother to flip her the bird—their usual goodnight gesture—but shrugs it off and slams her bedroom’s door shut behind her.</p><p>Harley lets the silence goes on, she doesn’t know what to say to Pamela. The thing is, they were never a thing. They fucked each other, sometimes ate dinner together, and went out for girls’ night. They were a fling at most. Despite Pamela’s continuous support and assurance, Harley’s confidence had been shit back then. She didn’t dare to have the ‘talk’ with her, instead deflecting with stupid jokes or sex, because why would an accomplished, drop-dead gorgeous assistant professor want someone like Harleen Quinzel? God she was dumb.</p><p>“Ain’t ya supposed to be in Arkham?”</p><p>She remembered seeing Pamela on her first day working in Arkham, through the thick bulletproof glass in the rogue gallery. The only difference was the color of her skin, but Harleen can always recognize that emerald eyes and flame-bright hair. It hurt a whole lot more when Pamela—Poison Ivy stared back at her without an ounce of recognition. Much more than when years before, she tuned in on the TV one night and saw her redhead lover in some kind of fancy gala, hanging on the arm of Gotham’s DA, Harvey fucking Dent, and looking at him like the way she looked at her whenever they had sex. She had pretty much vanished from Pamela’s life afterward. She was moving to continue her study to become a psychiatrist anyway, in an university in Metropolis that had given her full scholarship, where there was no genius red-haired botany assistant professor breaking her heart.</p><p><em>“I went to Belle Reve,”</em> comes the calm reply.</p><p>The thought of Pamela with a bomb in her neck makes Harley nauseous. Amanda Waller is a badass bitch who cackles with joy—not that Harley thinks that woman is capable of even smiling—when she makes someone go boom. To think that her Pammy has been so close to be what Sionis was is worse than when <em>she</em> had the bomb in her neck.</p><p>
  <em>“I was looking for you.”</em>
</p><p>“Me?” Harley laughs, not at all hiding the self-deprecation undertone. “Well ya found me now. What do you need?”</p><p><em>“Just to talk.”</em> Ivy pauses. <em>“Long enough for us to make sure you stay put while we track you down.”</em></p><p>Before Harley can ask who is us and why do they need to track her down, the small window on her left slides open and in one smooth move, Catwoman slips inside.</p><p>“Kitty!”</p><p>“She is here,” Selina speaks to her earpiece.</p><p>She doesn’t look amused like usual, but there is a small smile on her lips when Harley bounces up to greet her with a crushing hug. Selina is somewhat in between, not a total villain nor a hero. Just the friendly neighborhood robber cat that everyone likes. Harley likes her a lot.</p><p>“I’m here all the time!” Harley cries, too loud and too close to Selina’s face. She has turned on the speaker on her phone so Ivy can hear and speak to them too. “Ya don’t hafta hold on the birds to find me, Red.”</p><p>“You were not here <em>all the time</em>,” Selina deadpans. “I was here twice last week. I played a game with Cass. Ivy even brought herself here.”</p><p>Selina motions at the window next to the one she slipped in and Harley whips her head up so fast, heart jumping into her throat, when she thinks Ivy has joined them. She is crestfallen when she sees no one, but there is indeed a pot containing a small ivy plant on the windowsill. Next to her, Selina snickers; she knows exactly what she did.</p><p>Harley gotta talk with the kid about not playing game with stranger, especially ones who wear tight bodysuit and break into their place. Even more when their bodysuit is spandex and they wear their underwear over it—like, what kind of an <em>insane</em> person puts their underwear outside their bodysuit? Do they wear another set under? Ain’t their crotch gets sweaty? What if they need to go to the bathroom? What if they gonna do a quickie?</p><p>Knowing how easy it is for Harley to lose focus, Selina quickly cuts in with: “We’re hitting the museum.”</p><p>“The jewelry exhibit that’s been on for weeks?”</p><p>As one of the top tier criminals in the city, Harley has kept track on it, even brought the kid to case the joint last week. It’s a stupid idea to do an exhibit of the European royal families’ jewelry collection in Gotham City’s Museum. The city that has more criminals than flying rodent vigilantes. Some even has taken a crack at the security system during the first week, one of them under Penguin’s order, but to no avail. Their security must have been strengthened by now.</p><p>Nevertheless, Selina nods. “That prickly cactus won’t do the heist without you in,” she says.</p><p>From the other end of the phone, Ivy huffs. <em>“We need another person with us”</em> followed by <em>“I’m not prickly”</em>, but she doesn’t reprove about being a cactus.</p><p>Selina scoffs with a roll of her eyes. No, they don’t need more people. Neither of them is a team player. In fact, either of them could’ve grabbed the jewelries on their own. But Selina heard about Harley’s breakup with the Joker and her subsequent disappearance. When ACE Chemicals blew up sky-high, like Ivy, she’s worried that meant Harley was spiraling out of control. There are only a handful of villainesses in Gotham, they can’t not care about each other.</p><p>Her concern for Harley, however genuine, doesn’t mean she can’t tease Ivy. “She just misses you,” she says with a smirk.</p><p>“Aaw, I miss ya too, Pam-a-lamb.”</p><p>Ivy doesn’t know where the new nickname comes from, but she’s grinning. Dinah rolls her eyes at her while Helena is still gazing at her like she’s a brand new model of Ducati. Thankfully, Renee has passed out.</p><p>
  <em>“Are you in then, Peanut?”</em>
</p><p>Harley hesitates. She isn’t really lying low, per se, but she is good with the random jobs she pulls with the kid and joining the birds in their crusade sometimes. While the naughty half of the city is no longer after her once the news of what she (Cass, really) did to Roman Sionis spread like wildfire, Amanda Waller is still on her ass for skipping the suicide squad and GCPD is pissed after she wrecked their station. It’s only about time before Batsy come after her. She likes the free blings as much as the next girl, but she likes her freedom too.</p><p>However, above all those, there is Ivy and the oh so many things Harley wants to talk to her about.</p><p>Back when they were still flirting with each other, Pamela had been reluctant to do anything physical. Not even kissing—<em>especially</em> kissing. Harleen was confused. Pamela oozes sex and doesn’t seem like someone who had an issue with physical intimacy.</p><p>Turned out she was simply concerned of infecting Harleen with something. Nothing nasty like STIs, she had assured her, but she went abroad frequently, like the untouched depth of the Amazon and she didn’t want Harleen to get something from her. Pamela was overly concerned all the time, asking her consent for giving the vaccine more than thrice, like it was personally troubling for her.</p><p>Harleen said yes every time. She was head over heels enamored, and horny. Mostly horny. So horny that she didn’t bother to check what kind of vaccine it was or to remember that <em>she</em> was the medical doctor between the two of them. She volunteered her arm forward to be injected. It was nothing like she’d ever felt before. Excruciating like her body is being rearranged inside out. She couldn’t remember if she really passed out the whole weekend, but she did remember the amazing sex that followed afterward.</p><p>Harley is like 89% sure that injection is why she owed Ivy her life (the other 11% is dumb luck, she has plenty of that too). If the Joker hadn’t jumped after her into the vat of acid, she could’ve pulled herself out. The short moment she was suspended in the thick liquid after the splash, breathless and burning, everything was hurting but only for a sec. She thought it would be more painful, like dying, but it wasn’t. She survived with only permanent skin damage. Then there is the recent case of her quickly getting over Zsasz’s paralyzing dart.</p><p>She just wants to know for sure, but <em>hey, remember that suckass injection you gave me years ago? Yanno, before you ate me out and gave the best orgasm of my life? Is that really to make me immune to you and everything else? ‘Cause it’s like super fucking dope, thanks for savin' my ass, I'm still kinda in love with ya?</em> is not something to talk about through the phone and she really needs to stop talking like Cass.</p><p>“What do you say, Harls?” Selina is giving her the lazy smile, one that if she was a lesser woman would’ve made her swoon. She knows better. She only swoons under her breath. “The three of us, the crime queens of Gotham?”</p><p>“Hell yeah!” Harley pumps a fist. “You betcha, Kitty!” It’s always hard for her to say no, especially when it involves her ex.</p>
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